


sixty acres of northeast meadow

by girlmarauders



Series: soul plants [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Love, M/M, Mpreg, soul plants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 05:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17419724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlmarauders/pseuds/girlmarauders
Summary: a daemon-like AU where instead of animals you have soul plants. Auston's plant decides they're having a baby.





	sixty acres of northeast meadow

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to sea, frecklebombfic and growlery
> 
> [growlery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery) made this [beautiful moodboard](https://growlery.dreamwidth.org/8827.html) for this fic! please go tell her how much you love it
> 
> it's a soul plant au with magical mpreg don't think about it too hard

[moodboard made by growlery](https://growlery.dreamwidth.org/8827.html)

  


Auston’s condo was filling up with pinecones. Mitch’s tree apparently grew them in big batches every couple of years, driven by some unknowable cycle, and Mitch hated to throw them out. He kept coming home from dinner with his parents with a shopping bag full of his favorite specimens, whether it was ones that had already dried out perfectly, or a soft, shiny ones still closed up tight.

“Where are we going to put these?” Auston said, when Mitch handed him the latest bag, in the entryway of Auston’s condo, Mitch still unwrapping himself from his coat. “Why do you keep bringing these home?”

Mitch hung his coat on the hook, and toed off his shoes. His cheeks were pink from the cold outside, and his lips were chapped around the edges. Auston felt himself heat through. Mitch had moved into Auston’s condo, officially, at the start of the season, but he still felt self-conscious everytime he called it their home. He wanted Mitch to call it home too.

Mitch smiled at him, and then kissed him, just a quick peck on the lips, like _hello how are you I'm home_. Auston loved getting to know all the ways Mitch could kiss him, from the sweltering heat of kissing him during sex, to the nothingness of kisses that just said “hey I'm here”.

“They're my babies!” Mitch said, taking the bag out of Auston's hands and cradling it like a baby. Auston rolled his eyes.

“They're pinecones babe,” he said. Mitch shrugged.

“Mom's gonna send me pinterest ideas,” he said.

Auston sighed. He knew who was in charge here, and it wasn't him. The pinecones would continue to proliferate. He kept finding them around the condo for weeks, on their kitchen table, and in the box of magazines in the bathroom, in a pile on Mitch’s bedside table. Devastatingly, Mitch tucked one of them next to Auston’s echeveria when he wasn’t looking, and he only found it days later when he was cleaning the terrarium. He lifted it out and stared at it for a while, not sure what to do with it, and also suddenly floored by the intensity of his emotion. He kept being surprised by how the simplest things Mitch did could make him feel overwhelmed. He had thought once they were settled, moved in together, secure in each other, his feelings would eventually level out into something steady, but it turned out that being in love was more changeable than he expected. Every time he thought he had finally reached the maximum, Mitch did something, something like leave the seeds of his own tree pressed up against Auston’s plant, and he would realise there was only more space for his love to grow into, like roots reaching deeper into the earth.

He put the pinecone back, and didn't mention it. It would be a private, quiet memory to revisit when he needed it. Mitch took him to visit his parents, and to visit the tree, Mitch showing him the pinecones in the cold ground, where they would germinate best, Auston shivering in his baseball cap and denim jacket. They kissed under the tree, Mitch’s cold lips pressing against his. They had to keep it PG-13, because Mitch’s parents were in the house, but when they went back home, their home, Auston made Mitch lie back on their bed and watch him.

“C’mon Matts, you’re killing me,” he said, touching himself, his hand wrapped around his dick. He flushed red down his chest when he was turned on, and Auston liked to watch it, the way he could see Mitch get more worked up. Rising up onto his knees so Mitch could see the flex of his hand, he pushed a second finger into himself, feeling the slight stretch, the little zing of being turned on, the twist in his gut. He and Mitch fucked all kinds of ways, and he loved it all, but he especially loved the feeling of Mitch looking at him, the sensation of opening up around him. When he felt ready, he braced a hand on Mitch’s shoulder and lowered himself onto his hard dick, Mitch groaning theatrically and throwing his head back.

“Matts, oh god, Matts c’mon, please, you gotta move,” he groaned, groping for Auston’s hand and gripping it tight. Auston grinned at him, and flexed his thighs, barely moving on Mitch’s dick, just grinding back and forth, feeling the stretch and friction. He lifted up slightly, and waited, and then groaned when Mitch thrust upwards, their skin slapping together. It felt good, it always felt good, but this felt amazing, like something crackling along his skin.

“Matts,” Mitch groaned. “Babe.”

Both of them were moving faster now, Mitch thrusting up into him and Auston meeting up halfway, feeling each thrust deep inside him, like a building pressure. He couldn’t hold back anymore, and he wrapped the hand Mitch wasn’t holding around his dick, jerking himself off hard and fast. He could feel Mitch inside him, and he could see Mitch’s face, his mouth pulled in a grimace, his plastic, expressive face, and then his whole body pulled taut, like a branch bent as far as it would go, and he came, shaking, all over his own hand.

“Oh god,” Mitch said, in a long groan, moving his hips back and forth, unable to stop himself. “Matts,” he said again, and then curled upwards, grunting as he came. Auston hissed, oversensitive, and Mitch petted his hip lazily, like he was apologising, and then held himself as Auston lifted off, and collapsed onto the bed, face down. Mitch patted his shoulder, and then rolled over fully to press his body against Auston’s side, his nose pressing against the muscle of the back of Auston’s shoulder.

“We’re gross,” Auston said, into his pillow. He rubbed his thighs together in the cold air, but Mitch only grabbed their comforter and pulled it over them.

“Clean in the morning,” he said sleepily, rubbing his nose along Auston’s back. “Sleep now.”

Auston turned a little so he could see Mitch, just the outline of his shoulder, and the curve of his ass, the shape of his calves.

“Love you,” Mitch said, nearly asleep, and Auston’s heart clenched.

“Love you too,” he said, and reached out to flick off the bedside lamp, seeing his succulent and Mitch’s pinecone leaning against each other, just before he closed his eyes.

&&&

Auston checked the echeveria that morning, just a quick glance over while he was getting dressed. There hadn't been any new growth since the first months of him and Mitch, so he didn't expect any. It was more a comfort thing, like reaching for Mitchy in the night, checking the parts of him were still there. They had a back-to-back and then four games worth of travel. He was too tired to check again for nearly two weeks.

The day after they flew home from the roadie, Mitch went to his parents to visit the tree, a round trip doubled in time by Toronto traffic, and Auston slept in, lounging indulgently in bed and using all the pillows. He’d been feeling tired more quickly recently, and he was hoping it was just a low-level cold. When he finally summoned himself out of bed, he went to check on the plants. He kept a couple extra succulents around his, because he inanely worried about it getting lonely, and he cleaned away the shed leaves, and carefully watered a couple of them, and then turned to his plant, the round-leaved succulent that had been born with him.

There was the beginning of a flower forming in the centre of the leaf spiral. Auston's hand flew to his stomach, which was stupid, he couldn't feel anything, nothing was happening, it was really uncommon! He spent the next hour pacing the condo, going into the kitchen where he would tell himself he was imagining it, and then racing back to his bedroom to confirm he was right, there was a flower, small but present, not imagined at all.

Finally, he called his mom.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said, when he told her. “My baby’s having a baby!”

“Mom!” he said, feeling a little hysterical, his hand going compulsively to his stomach, and then he made himself stuff his hand in his pocket because there was _nothing there_ and he was being _ridiculous_.

“Do you need me to fly up there?” she asked.

“No!” he said quickly, because having your mom visit was a sure sign you’d given up, which you weren’t supposed to do. “No, it’ll be fine, I just needed to talk to you.”

“If you’re sure,” she said, and then paused. “Sweetheart, it’s Mitchell’s right?”

“Mom!” he said, since that was his Mom trying to obliquely ask about his sex life, which was deeply embarrassing. “Of course it’s Mitch’s.”

“Well, okay. Good,” she said. “You tell him to take care of you, it’s cold in Toronto.”

“Yes Mom,” he said. His mom was always saying it was cold in Toronto, like he hadn’t noticed, or was about to die of frostbite.

“I’ll send you some books from when I had Breyana,” she said. “And you can ask Mr. Marleau for help, I’m sure four boys wasn’t easy.”

“Mom, you can call him Patrick,” he said, and she made a tsk sound in the back of her throat, like when she heard him swear.

“And I’m coming to visit. I’ll talk to your father about when, okay?” she said.

“Mom,” he said. He didn’t need her to come visit. It was fine. Nothing was even happening yet, and he was sure reading her books was going to be horrifying enough. He infinitely preferred a world in which he could pretend nothing was wrong, or happening, or changing at all until it was impossible to avoid. Mom visiting and fussing over him would make it real.

“No arguing papi,” she said, which meant no arguing. She made him write down a grocery list for the delivery service, and lectured him about coffee, and then she told him she loved him, and he said it back, because he did love his mom, and then he hung up, and he was alone in the condo, pregnant.

He did a lot of pointless things for the next hour, his stretching routine, tidying the kitchen, moving laundry around their bedroom, until he heard the front door open, and Mitch drop his messenger bag in the hall.

“Babe! I’m home!” he shouted.

“In here,” Auston said, and Mitch stuck his head around the edge of the door. Auston had giving up wandering around the condo, and had installed himself back in the bed, cuddling a pillow for comfort.

“Hey, are you okay?” Mitch asked right away, and crawled onto the bed until Auston put his arm around him.

“Yeah,” Auston said, and turned his head, clearly asking for a kiss. They kissed, gently and quickly, and then Mitch pulled back, his eyebrows pulled together.

“C'mon Matts,” he said. “What's up?”

Auston picked at the duvet, looking down.

“Uh, I cleaned the terrarium today,” he said, ‘cause he didn't want to just jump into the announcement, there was a backstory okay?

“Okay?” Mitch said slowly, sounding more confused.

“Uh, and I found a flower,” he said quickly, knowing he'd lose his nerve if he slowed down. “which means..”

He looked up so he could see Mitch’s face, his forehead furrowed in confusion.

“Which means..” Mitch repeated, and then opened his mouth is dawning comprehension. “Matts, a baby?”

Auston nodded.

“Uh, yeah Mitchy, I think so,” he said. Mitch pulled back to look over his face, and he was smiling, the big grin that took up half his face.

“Oh wow,” Mitch said, and Auston groped for his hand, feeling like he needed to hold on. A baby. Mitch squeezed his hand back. “Matts, that’s awesome.”

Auston smiled back. He’d been freaking out low-key for the last several hours, and Mitch was doing what he always did, cutting right through the bullshit. Mitch was happy. There was a baby. He hadn’t felt happy about it yet, just the swoopy, empty stomach feeling he knew was nerves, but Mitch was happy about it.

“It’s good, right?” Mitch asked, when Auston didn’t say anything, and he nodded.

“Yeah, it’s good.” He squeezed Mitch’s hand again. “It’s good Mitchy.”

&&&

Everything happened so fast. They managed to hold back on telling anyone for a strange, magical, hidden two days, and then Auston nodded at Mitch in the dressing room and Mitch, still sweaty and in his base layers, stood on his stall and banged the wood until everyone shut up.

“Hey, listen up!” he shouted, puffing out his chest. He was so proud of himself, and of Auston. “Matts and I are having a baby.”

“No fucking way,” Naz said, louder than everyone else, as usual. Mo put his head in his hand. Jake blinked, clearly confused. Mitch pointed his water bottle at Naz.

“Yes fucking way,” he said smugly. They’d gone to the doctor the morning before practice, and she’d confirmed what Auston’s flower had told him - he was pregnant. They were having a baby. They’d decided.

Patty came over to Auston and put a hand on his shoulder, while Mitch got shouted at by Naz some more. He turned so he could look up at him, and see his smile.

“Congrats,” Patty said, and Auston smiled back. Everyone knowing made it seem so real. He felt fizzy with excitement. “It’s big news.”

“Yeah,” Auston said, pushing his sweaty hair off his forehead. “We’re excited.”

Patty squeezed his shoulder.

“Come to dinner next week, Chris will want to see you.”

Auston nodded.

“Sure,” he paused. “Mom says I have to ask you and her questions.”

Patty got the soft look he got whenever he or Mitch jokingly referred to him as “Dad”, or when they took family photos together, and Auston felt better about asking.

“She can help you more, I only had Landon,” he said, and Auston shrugged.

“I dunno, that’s more than me yet,” he said, and Patty clapped his shoulder and pulled his hand back.

“You’ll be fine. Have you told the coaches?”

Auston shook his head.

“Not yet. We have a meeting after this,” he said, and Patty nodded.

“Good luck, kid,” he said. Auston nodded, and bent to pull off his leggings.

Once they’d showered and changed, Mitch held his hand when they went into the coaches and management meeting. It went okay. Babcock rubbed his jaw and said “You’re both very young” but Mitch just squeezed his hand and said “we know sir,” which was really all they could say. They were young.

Auston would play as many more weeks as the doctor allowed, and then would go out with another “shoulder injury”, which would be so routine that no one would think anything of it. Mitch would play until the baby came, or he triggered paternity leave. They’d come back when the trainers said they were ready.

Auston felt like he blinked and the first weeks passed. Everything stayed the same at first, just with going to the doctor more, but then, one day, he put his hand on his stomach and realised that the curve wasn’t imagined any more, that was the baby. They went to ultrasound appointments and the baby was the size of a bean, then a tomato, then a papaya.

“Why are babies always food-sized?” Auston asked, looking at the little black and white print out of the latest ultrasound, sitting in the waiting room for another appointment where they would tell him more horrifying things that were going to happen to his body. Nothing they said really worried him. Even before he was pregnant, three horrifying things happened to his body before lunch, and that was just for sports. All the weird shit seemed like an easy trade for a baby. They took trophies away after a year. You got to keep a baby forever.

“I dunno, maybe ‘cause they’re squashy?” Mitch said, leaning on his side to look at the print-out. Auston hummed. That seemed like a good reason.

It turned out the appointment was to tell Auston he had to stop playing, which was infuriating. Mitch knew better than to argue with him when he was in a mood, and Mitch was hard to make mad anyway, so Auston grumpily insisted on driving home, even though it was uncomfortable now, and made Mitch order UberEats to Auston’s exact requirements, and grumpily stomped around the condo, opening and closing cabinet doors pointlessly. It was all Mitch’s fault anyway. His pinecones had gotten the terrible idea into his succulent’s head in the first place.

Mitch left the next day for a three day roadie, and Auston felt bad when he realised. He kissed him goodbye in the entryway.

“Good luck,” he said, not wanting to apologise. Mitch shrugged, smirking a little. He was so goddamn confident.

“We’ll see,” he said. “Can I say goodbye to baby?”

“Sure,” Auston said, and Mitch bent down to kiss his stomach.

“Hey baby,” he said. “Be really nice to your dad while I’m away okay?”

Auston wiped his wet eyes with the back of his hand. It was just being pregnant. It made all his feelings...more feelingsy. Mitch let him pretend not to be crying. He was a good bro like that.

It was only three days, but they felt boring and empty without Mitch to entertain him. On the evening of the second day, he rolled over in bed, despairing of ever finding a comfortable position, and felt a jolt he hadn’t expected. He pressed his hand to the newly taut skin of his stomach and waited, his heart in his chest, and then, after nearly a minute of nothing, he felt a jolt again, through his stomach and then against his hand.

“Oh,” he said, to himself, suddenly overwhelmed. That was their baby. A few seconds passed, and then he felt it again, not against his hand, but somewhere else in the unknown territory of his body. “Hello baby,” he said, softly. They were saying hello. The least he could say was hello back. “Mitch gets home tomorrow, you should save it for him.”

The baby kicked him again, and then seemed to settle. Maybe they would get off his spine and then he could sleep.

Bonnie came over for dinner the next day, a little before Mitch got home, and Auston followed her around as she cleaned and put things away until she installed him on the sofa with a baby book and told him not to get up. He turned the pages of the book without reading them. His mom was coming to visit soon, and the baby was supposed to come not long after that. He’d been excited, but as the weeks passed the worry set in more firmly. Worry about what? He had no idea, just the continually growing discomfort of his newly strange body, and the fact he hadn’t seen Mitch in three days, just the back and forth of their texts about Mo’s new girlfriend, and Jake’s screwup in the third, and Freddie’s sprained groin.

“Honey, I’m home!” Mitch sing-songed from the front door. Auston didn’t shout back, just started the slow process of levering himself up from the sofa. Bonnie stuck her head out of the kitchen, where something smelled good.

“Take your shoes off!” she hollered down the hall, and Auston heard Mitch made an “argh” sound and then the sounds of him walking back to the entryway. He always forgot, and Auston had given up on keeping his shoes out of the living room a long time ago. Bonnie turned and smiled at Auston, half-way off the couch. “Dinner's in a few minutes sweetie,” she said, and Auston nodded.

“Thanks Bonnie,” he said, and then managed to stand up, a minor victory.

That night, Mitch lay next to him, careful not to disturb the constructed nest of pillows he needed to sleep comfortably, and recounted the whole trip, from Willy’s new haircut to Patty winning at cards, to the plane journey back. Auston closed his eyes and listened, holding Mitch’s hand on his stomach. Mitch talking was for him, because he knew Auston hated to be left out and wanted in on all the jokes and stories, but it was for the baby too. All the books said the baby was listening to them, and they needed to be kept up to date on the team. Eventually, something, maybe the sound of Mitch’s voice, woke the baby up, and they kicked Auston’s stomach, another jolt inside him.

“Is that?” Mitch said, looking up at him, and Auston nodded.

“Yeah. Baby says hi Mitch,” he said, and Mitch’s face split into his wide grin, infectiously happy.

“Wow Matts,” he said, when the baby kicked again. “Hey, maybe they’ll play soccer.”

Auston smiled, and pulled his hand off his stomach so he could pull Mitch up for cuddles.

“Baseball and hockey only,” he said, and Mitch laughed.

“Sure Matts,” he said. “Whatever you say.”

&&&

The baby came a month later, with his mom there, and his sisters. The whole thing was fuzzy for Auston, like any time he was on pain-killers, but he remembered Mitch holding his hand, and then there was the baby, pink and screaming and in Mitch’s arms, who was holding them and grinning, letting Bonnie take pictures. He turned his head, and his mom was sitting next to his bed.

“Mom, don’t cry,” he said, because she was wiping tears away and she hiccuped and then laughed.

“Oh, it’s nothing papi,” she said. “I’m just happy.”

His mom had bought all-purpose soil, and a small, hopeful, packet of Arizona dirt, the same soil that had grown her orange tree, his succulent, Breyana’s Palo Verde. Who knew what would grow from their baby’s seeds, in Toronto, far away from the desert? Maybe another evergreen, like Mitch, something big and hardy. Or maybe something else, that Auston had never seen before. There were more plants on each than any one person could remember. Their baby would grow, and so would its plant, and one day they’d look over and see what had sprouted. Auston couldn’t wait to find out.

His mom stayed in the guest room for a week and a half, because Auston was still on pain-killers, and the baby needed to wake up every four hours. He’d read that in the books, but experiencing it in real life was something else. He’d always thought of himself as pretty tough, but being sleep-deprived was no joke. He was gonna buy his mom and Bonnie some really nice gifts, as soon as he got his energy back.

“I changed my mind,” Mitch said one night, when they were both up, and Baby wouldn’t stop yelling at them, tired or hungry or maybe just mad about existing, who knew.

“Huh?” Auston said. Mitch bounced the baby up and down gently, patting their back.

“No soccer. They’ll be a great goalie,” he said. Auston wrinkled his forehead.

“Why?” he asked. It was too late at night for this, and his side hurt, and the baby crying was so stressful. Mitch smiled.

“Well, Sparks is always shouting at me,” he said. “Baby’s making me feel like I went behind the net at the wrong time.”

Auston snorted.

“Let’s not put them in goal just yet,” he said, and Mitch smiled back at him. It wasn’t all bad, even if they did both keep falling asleep in inconvenient places. Auston found Mitch asleep in the baby’s room, in the comfy chair, with the baby on his chest, drooling on his old London Knights shirt. He took a picture on his phone, because it was too good to pass up, and every time he looked at the picture, even when Mitch was away playing games without him, his heart clenched tightly.

Time passed, both in clearly visible measurable ways, and also seemingly without Auston noticing. Their baby’s skin smoothed out, and they grew soft blonde hair on the top of their head. His sisters flew back to Scottsdale, and then his mom. Bonnie’s visits went down to twice a week, and then once a week. Mitch went back to the team to practice, and started bringing home the boys, one by one. Willy was their first guest, and, predictably, Baby _loved_ him, giggling and waving their arms and grabbing Willy’s hair.

“Ow,” he said, as the baby tugged, his head tipping sideways. “Why is your baby so mean Matty?”

“I dunno man,” Auston says, laughing, not helping Willy escape.

Zach came next, with a pile of baby books. They didn’t even have any words, just squiggly lines, and shapes, but he said they were good for babies. Mo and Jake came together, and it became impossible to pull Jake away from peek-a-boo for any length of time. Mo came into the kitchen, where Auston was using the break to eat a sandwich.

“How’re you doing?” he asked, leaning against the counter. Auston’s mouth was full, so he shrugged with one shoulder. He was happy, but he missed playing. He and the baby fell asleep in front of Mitch’s games all the time, because Auston wanted Baby to see every point he made, every implausible goal he scored, but they were usually too tired to stay up. He wanted to get back in the line up, but he didn’t want to leave the baby. He woke up in the night sometimes, and had to go check that they were still breathing. He’d caught Mitch at it one night, waking up to find the bed empty and when he went to the nursery, Mitch was standing in the doorway, holding onto the door frame watching their baby sleep.

“We’re doing okay,” Auston said, when he finished chewing. “I start training again next week.”

Mo’s eyebrows went up.

“You think you’re ready?” he asked. Auston made a face like “I guess”.

“Doctor says it’s okay,” he said. “I won’t rush it.”

Mo pulled him into a hug when him and Jake finally left.

“We miss you out there,” he said, the way Mo could say things like that easily. “But the ice’ll still be there later. Take your time.”

Auston smiled at him, and punched his shoulder, not too hard but enough for Mo to go “hey!”

“Don’t score too much while I’m gone,” he said, smiling. “You gotta make me look good when I come back.”

Mo laughed, and dragged Jake out the door with him. Auston was lucky in his friends.

&&&

Freddie was injured, and wasn’t supposed to be driving himself anywhere, so Auston, also cooped up in the house and going stir-crazy, went to him. It was an expedition that required two days of planning, and nearly a full day of preparation, just to move their 13 pound baby a couple of hours across the city. There was the car seat, the diaper bag, snacks and a change of clothes, a few of the favorite cuddly toys, until Auston was packing by the door and realised he had everything they’d need.

“Well,” he said, looking at Baby in the carrier. “Here goes, I guess.”

Baby just gurgled, which Auston took as a good sign, and they went out the door together.

Freddie didn’t seem to know what to do with the baby when they arrived, and Auston put the carrier on his coffee table. Maybe Mitch’s theory was right and Baby would be a good goalie, because they just stared at Freddie, fascinated, without blinking. Freddie stared back.

Auston sat on the sofa and waited for them to finish communing.

“You know,” he said, when the pause got too long. “Talking to babies is encouraged.”

“What?” Fred said, turning to look at him, and Auston felt himself smile naturally. Trust Freddie to be serious even at a baby.

“Watch this,” he said, and tucked his finger in an uncurled fist, and look at Freddie, smiling, as the baby’s grip tightened.

“Goalie hands,” Freddie said, in his deadpan way, and Auston laughed, tugging a little at his finger so the baby could play with the resistance.

“Mitch thinks so,” he said. “He’s this close to buying kid’s pads.”

Freddie leaned forward to put his elbows on his knees and look at Baby’s vacant, unfocused expression, and quirked his lips in his little sideways smile.

“Needs to work on the focus,” he said, and Auston moved over on the sofa to bump against his arm.

“I’m sure Uncle Freddie’s gonna teach all the goalie tricks,” he said, and Freddie’s grin became a full smile.

“Yeah,” he said softly, and Auston knew it would all be fine.

&&&

Auston went back to training, at a gym with a creche, and worked hard, enjoying the feeling of his body returning to something he recognised. Sometimes Bonnie would babysit, and he could have the whole day, training in the morning and skating in the afternoon, just the quiet repetition of the same drills over and over, smoothing out the noise of his mind into something like the shine of a leaf, or the stillness of a forest under snow.

It made coming home all the sweeter, to be away all day, and come home sore and accomplished, to Bonnie in his kitchen, or to the creche, but always to a baby happy to see him. Even when they cried, they needed him and Mitch. That meant something.

Mitch was left off the All-Star roster, which was obviously unfair and ridiculous, but Auston was secretly, selfishly pleased. He was still training every day, but now he and Mitch could lie on the sofa and watch their friends hit pucks into tiny nets, and send Mo texts telling him he looked stupid in the black jerseys. Mitch fell asleep on the sofa, and Auston sent a snapchat of his drooling face to Willy.

He tried to get off the sofa without waking Mitch, but he must have jostled him, because he started away suddenly.

“Huh?” he said, still half-asleep, and Auston just leaned down to kiss him.

“It’s fine,” he said, and Mitch blinked at him.

“Okay,” he said easily, and his eyes blinked closed. “Wake up me if the baby needs anything.”

Auston turned the game volume down, and settled at the end of the sofa to watch more 3-on-3 while Mitch slept.

&&&

The team had two homestands without travel, and they wanted Auston to skate more, so Bonnie came to the rink with him to babysit while he skated, and then he brought the baby to the dressing room before practice.

“Hey!” Mitch said, the first to realise they’d come in the room, making everyone look up. Auston’s hair was still damp from his shower after skating, and he shifted Baby in his arms, so they were both comfier.

“Hey guys,” he says. “Thought you might wanna meet the new Matthews.”

“ _Marner_ ,” Mitch said, and the room laughed.

“We haven’t decided yet,” Auston said. Patty was the first to come over.

“Hey kiddo,” he said, leaning over Auston’s arms, and Auston slowly relinquished his hold into Patty’s arms. He trusted him. It’d be fine. He rubbed his arms nervously.

“Be careful,” he said, and Patty looked at him knowingly.

“For sure,” he said, and the baby made a baby sound, just a nonsense word. Patty bounced his arms. “You’re gonna see the locker room a lot, eh? Better get used to it.” he said, putting his face close to the baby.

“C’mon, why does Patty get to hold the baby first?” Mo said, leaning over Patty’s shoulder. Patty lifted his arms and turned so Mo could see better.

“I have four kids,” Patty said dryly, but Mo waved a hand.

“And I haven’t killed nearly four whole plants,” he said, smiling. “It’s got your forehead Matts.”

“Don’t listen to him, he’d kill his plant if it wasn’t impossible,” Jake said, bumping his shoulder against Mo’s, who pushed him back.

“Uh, Ferny is _fine_ thank you, I’m not the one who nearly drowned their flowers,” Mo said, and Jake stuck his tongue out.

“Stop shit-talking me in front of the baby!” he said, aggrieved, and then realised what he’d said, his face contorting in a shocked apology.

“No swearing in front of the baby, oh my god, you guys are actually animals,” Naz said, and then shouldered Jake out of the way. “Hey buddy, it’s your favorite Uncle Naz, I am much better than then these morons.”

“The baby’s going to be a goalie, I am obviously his favorite uncle,” Freddie said in a deadpan, and Sparks shouted “hey!” from the stalls. “And Sparks,” Freddie added smoothly.

“We don’t know if they’ll be a goalie yet,” Auston said, trying to forestall Freddie getting too possessive.

“Yeah, stop trying to steal my baby, Fred,” Mitch said, sounding pretty calm. He comes to lean against Auston’s arm, and Auston puts his arm around his shoulders. He could be chill about new people holding the baby. He was being super chill right now, even. Patty bouncd the baby a little more enthusiastically, and then they both laughed, Baby giggling away.

“Pretty sure Patty’s his favorite uncle,” Brownie said, from behind Jake.

“Alright boys, let’s break it up,” Babcock said, coming into the room with a clipboard. A few of the guys dispersed back to their stalls, but Patty kept the baby, rocking his arms gently. Babcock stopped when he saw Auston standing in the doorway of the room, and looked across to Patty holding the baby.

“Just coming in to introduce everyone,” Auston said. Babs smiled.

“Well, you could introduce your coach, right?” he said, and Auston smiled slowly, feeling the happiness dawn over him like the morning. He was about to ask Patty to do the honours, when lifted up and eased the baby into Mitch’s arms. Mitch shoogled the baby gently, just to make them laugh.

“Here you go Coach,” he said, and Babs put his clipboard to the side, putting out his arm and taking the baby gently.

“Hello,” Babs said, happily, and their baby made a loud sound, and reached for Babs' face. “Good arms,” he said seriously, and Freddie made a face like see? Auston nearly laughed, and then held it in.

“We’ll see about getting goalie pads when they’re old enough,” Auston said, and Babs nodded.

“For sure,” he said, and looked around the room, where most of the guys were half into their gear. “Well boys, let’s get going,” he said, which sped a few of the guys up.

He turned to Auston, and he reached for the baby, taken by surprise when Babs looked at him levelily.

“You’ve done a big thing, Matthews. There’ll be a lot of hard work coming up,” he said seriously, and Auston took the weight of the baby in his arms, and then nodded.

“I know sir,” he said. Babs sucked on his teeth thoughtfully.

“Well, keep working on getting back,” he said. “We could use another center.”

Auston smiled. That was as close as Babs would probably ever come to wishing them well.

“Yes sir,” he said, and waved to everyone as he left the room. Mitch would come home from practice tired and they’d nap together, listening the baby sounds through the monitor. He had more training tomorrow, and he felt good, nearly there, almost back. There was no point in rushing it. They had time.

&&&

Mitch pulled him back down into the bed.

“Matts, please, just nap,” he said sleepily, and Auston felt bad for waking him up.

“But..” he said, and then the crying through the monitor got further away, hiccuped, and stopped.

“Mom’s got it,” Mitch said. “Babe, you need to sleep.”

They’d asked Bonnie to stay over Auston’s first game back for a reason. It’d be stupid to get up to check on the baby when he was supposed to be napping. He’d skated that morning, and he didn’t feel nervous, but there was something unsettling about changing a routine he’d gotten used to. No more falling asleep on the sofa hoping that Mitch would have a three point night, no more waking up to Mitch coming home, or the baby crying. Instead, he’d come home with Mitch, they’d finish the game together, he’d be back on the bench with the team he loved.

Mitch tightened his arm around Auston’s middle, and buried his face in his pillow. Auston let it pull him back down into the bed, and turned so Mitch could cuddle against his back. When he closed his eyes, it was quiet, just the sounds of MItch’s breathing, and he willed himself to sleep, thinking about the game to come.

Eventually, unstoppably, the game came, and Auston ran out onto home ice, hearing his own name over the rink speakers as if it came from far away. They had kept telling him he’d find it new, but not a single second of it was unfamiliar. He knew the rink, he knew the ice, he knew Mitch’s face during warmups, his tongue stuck out in concentration. Willy bumped his shoulder when they sat on the bench.

“Ready to go?” he asked, and Auston grinned at him.

“Get ready,” was all he said. It was going to be a good night.

Mitch’s line came off, and Auston went over. He knew Willy was behind him, and Kappy was coming too, and they had it. He was sure.

Right at the end of the shift, they got it - Mo with the puck at the blue line, across to Willy and them, as smooth as butter, easy like the summer sun on leaves, the puck came across the ice and Auston flicked it up and over Kincaid’s shoulder. It was a pretty goal, and when the goal horn sounded he coasted down the ice, and waved up at the corner box, where he knew Bonnie and Baby, probably asleep, definitely in headphones, were watching the game. The crowd cheered, and the Jumbotron showed Bonnie waving back, a shape in her arms that was the baby. Maybe in a few years Mitch and him would show footage of this at family dinner, or to reminisce.

From the side, Willy barrelled into him, pushing both of them into the boards.

“Alright!” he shouted, over the sounds of the rink, and then all five of them were pressed together, sweaty and excited. He could see Mitch banging his stick against the side of the bench, shouting something Auston couldn’t hear. It didn’t matter. He was where he belonged.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] sixty acres of northeast meadow](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18035018) by [growlery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/pseuds/growlery)




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